


Sanctity

by titaniaeli



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Drabble Sequence, Friendship, Gen, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Multi, Raijin!Kuroo, Supernatural Elements, Yôkai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-05-30 11:00:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15095327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titaniaeli/pseuds/titaniaeli
Summary: Yokai lived amongst the humans. Some lived as humans, some hunt the innocent in the shadow of the night. Raijin fell from heaven years ago and inserted himself into a family of onmyoji. But even a god could not hide for long when secrets of the ancient past started to unravel.A sort of continuation/rewrite ofgods and monsters





	1. Chapter 1

The world vibrated with the roar of thunder, lightning streaking across the night sky and lighting up the clouds. The lone figure seemed to hang in the air, studying the humongous corpse of Tsuchigumo with a detached interest.

The huge yokai’s body had flattened half of the surrounding forest’s trees when he fell from the sky, his many limbs scattered and thrown afar from their tireless effort in incapacitating the spider yokai’s power bit by bit. The mountain god of this domain would not be very happy when they eventually crawled out from their hiding place at daybreak to see the mess in their forest.

The rain continued to fall heavily even after the battle had ended, a mist of unnatural means encompassing the mountain.

Like a flower blooming, the belly of Tsuchigumo folded outwards, leathery skin shrinking to make way for the critters bursting forth. The smaller spiders, yet already at human-sized, scuttled into the shadows.

Another figure, slender and silver and pale—unlike his dark-haired, storm eyes and lightning sly-tongue brother—appeared in a typhoon of wind, pulling the string off the small sack hanging on his hip. A gale roared forward, scattering the spiders and pulverising their still soft bodies.

Amidst the storm, the cry of an infant echoed like a beacon.

The dark-haired brother gifted a momentary glance at the mass of spiders below him. Assured that the other could take care of them, he turned and followed the sound of crying.

His landing was soundless, in the middle of the melted twist of asphalt. A stray lightning bolt had splitted the road in a clear horizontal line.  _His_ lightning bolt, it seemed, from the familiar tinge of spiritual power lingering heavily in this area.

The infant crying intensified, pounding behind his eyes. He skidded down the side of the road, moving towards the base of the slope, where an overturned car smoked lazily. The closer he got, the infant crying seemed to increase in volume. The pungent smell of oil wafted towards him.

He peered through the shattered glass, crouching down at the side of the car. The front of the car was smashed beyond repair, and the couple was obviously dead. He moved his gaze to the back of the car. The infant remained stuck in her safely seat, the thin buckle wrapped protectively around her body.

A wet snout nosed at his elbow. Without looking back, he reached back and idly ran his fingers through the Raiju’s head. Lightning crackled from the divine beast’s body, but instead of searing his hand, it was soothing, like stroking soft fur.

“You smell it too, don’t you?” He murmured.

Even without the lesser instincts of a common yokai, a divine beast could barely resist such a delectable fragrance.

He reached out with one hand and effortlessly ripped the car door off. With slight difficulty, he ducked into the car and carefully untangled the infant from her buckle. The richness of her spiritual power was almost tangible against his tongue. He cradled her against the crook of his arm, straightening up from his crouch. The Raiju sniffed the infant’s foot, purring loudly in approval.

He rocked the infant absently to calm her wailing, not even bothering to look up as his hair stirred.

“An unfortunate casualty.” Fujin clucked his tongue when he noticed the burden in his brother’s arms. “They must have been driving down the mountain and got caught in the crossfire of our battle with Tsuchigumo.”

Fujin took a closer look at the baby. For a pitiful human, at least it was a pretty child, with her dark, downy hair and huge winter grey eyes. He could see the blue veins under the snow-white skin; she was so frail, so laughably breakable.

“Why save her?” He questioned, almost curious. “She will be dead within a month anyway.”

“I’m bringing her home.” Raijin replied, ignoring his brother. “Have you gotten rid of the swarm?”

At the mention of the swarm, the Raiju growled and took off to finish his hunt. He nearly sighed out loud as he watched the beast streaked into the sky. If a mere infant could tantalize the Raiju from his hunt, what can be said about the other demons?

The infant cooed in his arms, and Raijin has never been prone to pretty things like his brother, but he thinks that he could make an exception for this one.

He gently ran his thumb down her pudgy cheek, smiling when she quieted down to stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Time to go home, little one.” He whispered. “Say goodbye to your parents.”

The two ghostly figures standing beside the wrecked car gazed sadly at their child, unable to reach out for the living, despite their wishes.

“Go now to Yomi, before the both of you become  _onryu._ ” He commanded.

There was a sorrowful moan from the mother. The father reached out gently to brush his fingers over the infant’s cheek, and to Raijin’s utter surprise, the hand became tangible for a second. Lips pressed sweetly against her forehead before both spirits vanished.

In the gently pouring rain, Raijin closed his eyes respectfully to the couple’s grief, feeling the whisper of  _‘Asami’_ gliding across his godly skin.

* * *

It hadn’t been a good day for Kuroo Shimeyo.

A sudden thunderstorm broke across the Kanto region last night, coming out of nowhere, sweeping aside the gentle Spring warmth that had lulled her to sleep, with the assurance that her laundry would be dried by the next morning. She was woken abruptly at 3am by a loud bellow of thunder, the heavy rain drumming loudly on her rooftop. She hadn’t dared to venture out the safety of her room, made uneasy by the sharp, dense pressure of spiritual power in the air.

When the rain finally petered out at sunrise, she was disturbed by a loud banging on her wooden double doors. Her mood had worsened at the sight of the police on her doorsteps, her heart plunging to her belly in dread and fear.

Her son and daughter-in-law were dead, and her granddaughter was missing. The police were currently searching frantically for the missing infant, so please rest assured, Kuroo-san, we’ll find her. She sat on the porch, her wooden doors wide open as police streamed in and out of her home without her permission.

The last time she had seen her granddaughter had been at her birth. Her son and daughter-in-law had been driving down to Tokyo with their daughter to speak about the infant’s increasing spiritual power. Who would have thought that they would die before making to her home?

She itched to head out and investigate their deaths like the good old days, but she has too many eyes on her. Her son might not have inherited her strong powers, but he still possessed the capability to sense yokai and see their true forms. What if a starving yokai came across the family of three and decided to try their luck?

Before her thoughts could spiral further, there was a loud outcry from the front. She sprung up instantly, hurrying to the source of the noise. The police were gathering at her entrance, blocking her way. Banishing her fear, she straightened her back and rested her hands on her hips.

 _“Move.”_  She said authoritatively. Without knowing why, the officers felt a sudden chill down their spines and jumped aside immediately. She blustered forward, not caring if the officers had not moved aside in time.  

The first thing she saw was the boy—five or six, she estimated—standing in front of her doors with a bundle in his arms. He was soaking wet, shivering in his thin white yukata, his riotous dark hair dripping with rainwater. She called him a  _thing_ because she wasn’t entirely sure that he’s human.

There’s nothing earthly about the child’s beauty, or that strange feeling he gave her the moment she saw him. It was the eyes that drew her attention; big and childish, glinting a peculiar gold when the sun hits them just right. They were old eyes that shouldn’t belong to a child.

He was also carrying her granddaughter.

The second thing she noticed was the dense spiritual power leaking continuously out of the infant’s body, spilling everywhere and coating the doorsteps of her house. It was a miracle that there wasn’t a line of demons behind waiting to snack on her granddaughter.

No wonder her son had sounded so worried on the phone.

“Who the hell are you?” The worry and panic had sharpened her tongue. Even tactless as she usually was, she winced immediately the moment she spoke.

The boy stared up at her with widening eyes, clutching the infant closer. She could feel the officers’ judging eyes on her. Before anyone could say anything, the boy sniffled loudly, his bottom lip wobbling dangerously.

“Kuroo-san!” One particularly brave police officer yelped. “How could you say such a thing to your own grandson?”

_What._

The boy’s composure broke, and he started to cry. Loudly.

And when the boy cried, the infant in his arms followed suit.

She has never seen a bunch of men scrabbled around in such sheer panic over two crying kids before. As expected, it was a pathetic sight.

“Stop panicking, you idiots!” She shouted at the police. “You’re frightening them!”

She stomped forward, scooped the boy and her granddaughter into her arms. She might be old now, but she’s still pretty sprightly. The boy quieted instantly, sniffing pitifully as he leaned into her embrace.

She took a second to study her surroundings more closely. She had been so absorbed in the kid; she hadn’t realized what was going on around her. Her younger self would have lectured her for focusing on the wrong thing.

There was a golden tendril snaking around the police officers, sinking harmlessly into their flesh before exiting out to continue its languid journey throughout her house. It weaved seamlessly through the fate lines of the humans, inserting itself so naturally into the living world that no one wiser would have blink and take a second glance.

Except for her, the strongest onmyoji of her generation.

She glanced down at the child in her arms, unsurprised by the intense golden gaze. The boy’s body remained loose and untensed, and he even leaned closer to her when she adjusted her grip, but his eyes never wavered from her face, as if he knew about her observation.

“All of you, get out of my house now!” She barked. When some of the officers tried to protest, she gave them a fierce glare. “My grandchildren have come back to me safe and sound. Do I look like I’m in any danger?”

She felt the boy stiffened briefly, but when she tried to look at his expression to gauge his reaction, he had already turned away and hid his face in her neck.

“Go do something useful instead!” She snapped. “Bring my son and daughter-in-law’s bodies back to me safely!”

It didn’t take long before they were scampering out of her house.

“I’m sorry, Obaasan.” The boy’s voice was muffled against her shoulder. She could feel her own clothes getting drenched and quickly headed to the bathroom before the two children could catch a cold.

“Can I at least get the name of my own grandson?” She said wryly, feeling her age bearing down on her.

The boy looked up, studying her for a long moment. She has never been a woman easily intimidated, but his golden gaze made her nervous.

Abruptly, a teasing smirk brightened his features, making his cheeks glowed with a blush, his eyes lighting up in amusement. The transformation was so sudden that she nearly tripped in surprise.

“Obaasan, have you gotten so old that you couldn’t even remember my name?” He grinned. “It’s Tetsurou!”

Shimeyo suddenly has the feeling that she had adopted a trickster into her house.


	2. Chapter 2

At five going on six, Kuroo Asami was a precocious child. Even her older brother found it difficult to keep up with the lively, energetic child.

If asked, Shimeyo would have complained that Tetsurou was as lazy as a cat anyway, so it’s no comparison between the two siblings.

Asami was a powerful child, even at the tender age of five. She was the heir apparent of the Kuroo family, who bore a heavy responsibility on her shoulders of wielding the yokai-slaying sword, _Onimaru._

Really, he could understand her need for freedom, after hours of stifling silence and studies and martial practice. For god’s sake, the kid was only five years old. Even if the concept of time was still something he had to learn and understand, he was aware enough to know that five was too young for _any_ child to be swinging a sword—even if it’s just a wooden one—at the tree every morning.

But Shimeyo felt that five was the appropriate age to start on the lessons, especially for a child as powerful as Asami. Tetsurou would joined in on swordsmanship and shikigami summoning lessons with his younger sister, but he usually skipped out on mediation and mastering his spiritual power. Most days, he could be found lazing on the porch with his Russian Blue cat curled up by his side. When he gets the burst of energy to move around, he would head out to the neighbourhood to play with the other kids.

He has been experimenting with different sports to wear out his fluctuating energy, and recently has been trying out volleyball after an older boy in the next block introduced it to him. So far, volleyball had been rather interesting, but the neighbourhood kids were starting to struggle to keep up with him. Whenever that happened, the kids would start to distance themselves from him, and then he’d lose interest in the sport.

It was so... frustrating.

“Asami? Asami!” He winced as his grandmother’s geta slapped nosily outside his room. _“ASAMI!”_

The shoji door slammed open abruptly, the bamboo frame rattling from the force.

“Tetsurou!” Shimeyo barked, glaring down at him angrily. “Where is your sister?”

He stifled a sigh and sat up. Yaksha meowed in annoyance and leaped off his stomach. He idly patted the cat’s head in silent apology, and they shared a look of commiseration.

“She must have sneaked out again.” He muttered.

Shimeyo closed her eyes for patience. He could see the thick vein in her temple twitched furiously. He saw the moment her thinly-controlled composure shattered.

“Then go find her!” She roared.

The shoji doors slammed behind her.

He mumbled a curse and grudgingly stood up, smoothing the creases on his shorts. He tiptoed to grab his hoodie out of his wardrobe, pulled it over his head and slipped on his sneakers. Yaksha cocked his head questioningly at him from his comfortable nest of old blankets and shirts in the corner.

“Stay here, Yaksha.” He sighed.

He glanced up at the orange sky, frowning in concern. No wonder their grandmother was getting antsy. Night was falling soon, and that’s when the yokai comes out to play.

* * *

Luckily, he was more than aware of Asami’s favourite playground. She loved to wander to the forest near the shrine of the mountain god, playing with the yokai that lurked amongst the foliage. It’s a habit that Shimeyo was desperately trying to break in her granddaughter, lest the latter run into a yokai that isn’t as friendly as her ‘friends’.

Although protective over his naïve sister, he indulged in her little hobby. With her daily rigorous training and studies, she needed all the friends she could get. Her immense spiritual power set her apart from her human peers. Still too young to understand completely that humans lacked the sight to see yokai, it made for a rather lonely childhood for Kuroo Asami.

She was a happy child though, and if she wasn’t frolicking with her yokai friends, she was clinging to Tetsurou. But he never felt that he was enough for Asami. Despite practically raising her up, living side by side humans for the last five years, Tetsurou still has difficulty understanding them.

And Kuroo Shimeyo was never a particularly normal human from the beginning.

He walked past several humans on their way home from the shrine. None of them gave him a second glance, too focused on reaching home before the sun sets. It was dangerous at night, and even though they don’t know why, their instincts screamed at them to remain away from the dark.

The mountain god was absent from their shrine when he climbed up the long, arduous steps. The caretaker had retreated inside, and a lone leaf fluttered across the steps from a light breeze.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, letting his senses spread. Despite Asami’s training, she’s still a child after all. It would take years before she could successfully hide from him. Besides, with her spiritual power dripping all over the damn place, it’s like she’s drawing a map straight towards her position for him.

Without entering the shrine, he crossed the broken pathway leading into the forest. The stone had already eroded, weeds growing from between the large cracks.

In his smaller body, everything in the forest looked frightening. The trees towered above him, their spindly branches resembling skeletal hands clawing towards the sky. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, the sky a burnt orange fading behind the leaves. He continued his ascent, fearless. In this mountain, there’s none scarier than him.

A sudden high-pitched shriek pierced the silence, shattering the peace he’d been enjoying. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized that voice. Without hesitation, he took off running towards the scream.

His small body was cumbersome to move, but that did not slow him down at all. He took advantage of his speed to make up for his lack of reach. He didn’t even pause to contemplate the creature in front of Asami before he kicked it aside.

His sister had fallen on her backside, a rip on her dress. He smelled the rich scent of coppery blood, saw the crimson stain on her elbow and literally saw _red._ Scaring Asami was one thing, making her bleed was _unforgivable_.

“Wait!” She cried, scrambling to stand up. “Wait, Oniichan!”

He stopped just shy of crushing the yokai’s throat.

Asami grabbed onto the back of his hoodie, panting breathlessly. He swung around and glared down at her, causing her to squeak in alarm.

 _“You’re so dead once I deal with this punk.”_ He hissed. “I told you not to wander so far up the mountain!”

The bakeneko struggled under his foot, growling and snarling in anger. Asami hid behind him, peeking at the yokai with a nervous gaze.

“Get back down the mountain now!” He scowled. Cowed by his uncharacteristic fury, Asami did not protest further and agreed meekly. Once he makes sure she had make her way down the mountain safely, he gazed back down at the bakeneko.

He almost felt guilty once he realized how _young_ the yokai is.

“Hey, stop fighting me.” He muttered. “Get back to your senses before you Fall.”

 _Falling._ The dreaded term for intellectually sentient yokai. Sometimes they fell prey to their baser instincts, losing all sense of themselves and become nothing but a bloodthirsty monster.

Sometimes, they don’t make it back.

That’s when the onmyoji have to step in.

The bakeneko whined, loud and shrill. The form shifted, becoming pale flesh and hairless skin and black hair. His struggles weakened, his growl vibrating sickly in his chest.

“That’s right.” Tetsurou murmured, crouching down beside the smaller boy.  “You’re doing good.”

 “Who... are you?” The bakeneko rasped. Catlike eyes blinked tiredly up at him.

He resisted the urge to pinch the boy’s cheek. He was really small and squishy, and his bakeneko form had been pretty cute, once he got over his homicidal urges.

Damn, he was getting soft. And maybe just a tiny bit lonely. 

“My name is Tetsurou.” He grinned. “Hey, kitty, wanna be my friend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already had in mind to pair up Kuroo with someone, even though this fic will not be focused on romance. But I couldn’t decide on Tsukki/Kuroo or Daichi/Kuroo. I’m leaning more towards Tsukki in this fic, but you can change my mind! Vote in the comments below? 
> 
> Tell me who you look forward to see Kenma with too if you wish to ship him with someone.


	3. Chapter 3

Kenma Kozume knew Kuroo Tetsurou a total of one week, and he had already accepted that he was stuck with him for life. He also learned that the older boy was batshit crazy, but it’s nothing new. He already knew that when Tetsurou asked him to be his friend right after nearly killing him.

Of course, he knew about the infamous Kuroo family. They were a clan descended from a long line of powerful onmyoji. There’s no yokai out there that has not heard of the Kuroo family. The adults spun tales of monsters wearing human faces, scaring the children with tales of the onmyoji to make them head to bed early. To the yokai, the Kuroos were the bogeyman, the monster hiding under the bed. If you do not listen to your parents, the onmyoji would steal you away into the night to feed your corpse to their shikigami.

Kozume barely remembered the day he nearly Fell, but he woke up on a comfortable futon nursing a cracked rib with three Kuroos staring down at him the next morning. Needless to say, that had been the most frightening experience of his young life. It had taken him two weeks to completely heal from his broken bones. Overhearing Kuroo Shimeyo screaming at Tetsurou after the latter had dragged his unconscious self all the way back to the Kuroo house had make the whole experience easier to bear.

The bakeneko might still be young and his powers undeveloped, but he knew that Tetsurou’s strength was surreal for a human. Even if he’s an onmyoji, he’s still a kid. He shouldn’t be able to start breaking bones with one kick.

He thinks he might understand a little now, why his aunts and uncles were so frightened of the onmyoji. His parents, on the other hand, had an almost cordial relationship with the White Order, an organization of onmyoji responsible for managing unruly demons and taking down the Fallen.

It made him an outcast with the rest of his family, not that he cared particularly about his cousins anyway.

Somehow, he became just like his parents and became friends with an onmyoji. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder...

“Why volleyball?” He asked in aggravation.

“It’s fun, right?” Tetsurou responded, grinning obnoxiously at him from behind the net. It wasn’t really a net, just a bunch of ropes hastily tied together around two poles. “And you’re the only one who can keep up with me!”

Kozume tried not to groan out loud.

The Kuroo siblings possessed an exceptional ability to rile him up, just by _existing_. One of them was bad enough, but when both Asami and Tetsurou ganged up on him, he always felt like giving in to his primal instincts and commit murder. Still, he wished Asami was here to rein in her idiotic brother from his insane ideas.

“Where’s Asami?” He sighed.

“She’s stuck practicing her swordsmanship.” Tetsurou replied, lightly tossing the ball into the air. His palm met the ball with a loud smack, and it flew over the net.

He lazily jumped and barely hit the ball back to Tetsurou.

“Again?” He frowned. It didn’t take long for him to learn that Asami was heir apparent. He would be _blind_ not to notice the overwhelming spiritual power from the girl, but he doubted that that’s the reason why she’s the next clan head. His ribs still ached whenever he remembered that kick, and the bakeneko in him _whimpered_.

Unlike Asami, he could barely sense Tetsurou’s spiritual power. If Kozume was a stupider kid, he’d assume that his new friend was weak, but he guessed he got the advantage of experiencing Tetsurou’s fury. Strange that he could ‘remember’ so vividly of his experience up at the mountain when his memory of that evening was so fuzzy.

As if noticing his distracted expression, Tetsurou slammed the volleyball straight at his face. He narrowly dodged the ball, wincing as he felt the ball grazed his cheek.

“Ha!” Tetsurou cheered. “I won again!”

“Why aren’t you the heir?” He blurted out.

Tetsurou stopped jumping around, blinking owlishly at him. He seemed almost dumbfounded by his question.

“Um, why should I be?” Tetsurou retorted, genuinely clueless. “I love the freedom of not being heir!”

For the thirty-eighth time that hour, he had to resist throwing his hands up and returning back home to his game console. _Yes_ , he was counting.

“You’re the first child, aren’t you?” He asked.

He could literally see the lightbulb switching on above that rooster head. That sly face, cheeks still round with baby fat, smoothed out with understanding. There were times that Tetsurou seemed almost inhuman to him. He couldn’t figure out why, even though Tetsurou acted so undeniably... _childish_.

Perhaps _that’s_ the point. At times, Tetsurou was like any ten-year-old boy, eager and enthusiastic, and when he’s not dragging Kozume all over the neighbourhood, he’s curled up in his bed under layers of blankets, refusing to move. Then there were times he seemed so mature, the years in his eyes older than the physical youth of his body. It’s like his child body was trying to catch up with his mind but failing.

“I know the Kuroo family has this ridiculous tradition of practicing primogeniture, but it’s already the 21st century!” Tetsurou burst out, sighing exaggeratedly. “It’s not _that_ strange for the heirship to go to the second child, you know?”

He raised a brow in response. He could tell when someone is trying to deflect. Tetsurou, especially, has the habit of using big words that high school students do not even know when he’s trying to deflect. That or he’s trying to piss someone off.

Tetsurou huffed petulantly when he noticed the stare.

“Fine,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “It’s nothing big. I can’t wield Onimaru.”

He stared at the older boy, uncomprehending.

Onimaru, the yokai-slaying sword of the Kuroo clan. Only the blood of the onmyoji could unsheathe the legendary sword. It was said that the sword had once slayed a thousand oni and was once called Onikiri. With the blade dyed in crimson, it was renamed as Onimaru. Any yokai who tried to draw the sword would find themselves cut in a hundred pieces.

Every single Kuroo clan head had been a wielder of Onimaru.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Tetsurou complained. “Asami is the more compatible wielder, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He repeated.

Tetsurou’s gaze across the court was abruptly piercing. The hazel of his eyes was golden fire under the scorching sun. That strangeness he has always felt from Tetsurou intensified.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou smiled. “I am not interested in being clan head.”

He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. He has nothing to say to that.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time he met the Ushijima heir, he was thirteen and accompanying his younger sister to an annual clan meeting.

The Ushijima house was located at Shinjuku, the heart of Tokyo. It was Japan’s most densely populated city, teeming with yokai. In the center of Shinjuku were two giant white pillars that extended to the sky. It was so tall that he could hardly see the top with the heavy mist hanging in the air. A crimson shimenawa was tied around both enormous pillars.

Both pillars have been standing since the Edo period, even before the Edo Castle was even constructed. For nearly four hundred years, they have been a familiar sight in the middle of Shinjuku. The Ushijima clan was responsible for guarding the Divine Pillars, as they were so named by their ancestors.

Of course, they were invisible to those who does not possessed the Sight. But to the rest of Tokyo who could see the Divine Pillars, they were thought to be a Godly Item that protected Japan, an instrument to ward off evil. The onmyoji knows better of the sordid tale behind the Divine Pillars. They were seals against Shutendoji, the once fabled Oni King that had terrorized Edo, with his yokai minions spreading darkness across the country.

The first Ushijima was said to have been a descendant of Minamoto no Yorimitsu and inherited the legendary sword Dojigiri. Once again taking up his famous ancestor’s sword, he led the rebellion against his family’s greatest enemy.

The Ushijima clan had failed twice to completely defeat Shutendoji. The first time, Minamoto no Yorimitsu managed to heavily injure the Oni King and chased the demon away. The second time, Ushijima Akifumi was aided by the twin gods, Raijin and Fujin. With the gods’ help, they sealed away Shutendoji.

When Shutendoji stirred awake again, the Ushijima clan would stand against him once more.

The first thought Tetsurou had when he first saw Ushijima Wakatoshi was of a solemn, stoic-looking boy who looked like he could not remember how to smile. Throughout the entire meeting, he barely even moved, his expression earnest. He was so still he might as well not be breathing.

Tetsurou’s presence garnered many inquisitive looks, undoubtedly because the chosen Kuroo heir was Asami. Luckily, Asami did not noticed the looks people were shooting at her brother. She was too busy being nervous at her first meeting, or she’d have raised hell.

Shimeyo would _disembowel_ him if that ever happened, even if it’s not his fault.

During a short break, Tetsurou quickly sneaked out. He felt a small of guilt at leaving Asami with their grandmother, but the freedom of finally escaping from that insufferably boring meeting was too sweet a notion.

Sometimes, he had to sacrifice for the greater good!

Tetsurou didn’t managed to go far though. Just as he was scampering through the lavish koi garden, trying to avoid detection from the guards, he collided right into another person. The other person tripped as they tried to avoid crushing him at their collision and went right over the edge of the bridge and into the pond.

He winced at the loud splash, water splattering over him and his nice yukata.

“Oh, shit.” He muttered, scrambling up to stand. He dashed to the pond, staring at the boy struggling to sit up.

A koi fish swam across his lap. Another smaller fish—probably a baby—leaped from the top of his dripping brown hair. The look on that previously stoic face was comical.

“Are—Are you okay?” Tetsurou managed to choke out. Helpless laughter bubbled to his lips, which he hurriedly tried to stifle behind a hand.

Ushijima Wakatoshi stared up at him flatly.

It was _too much_ for him to stand. He tried to offer his help but collapsed into laughter. When Wakatoshi huffily stood up—or tried to anyway—he slipped on a weed and fell again.

Tetsurou snorted loudly.

“Will you stop laughing?” Wakatoshi scowled.

He fell over laughing again. The other boy’s expression twisted in annoyance and embarrassment, the tips of his ears flaring red.

Tetsurou finally regained his composure after five minutes of laughing. His stomach hurts, his cheeks flushed with mirth.

“Sorry,” he grinned, offering out a hand. “Give me your hand.”

Wakatoshi grabbed his hand with great reluctance. When he stood up and waded out of the koi pond, he raised his chin in a failed attempt at regaining his dignity. He looked like he’s trying to act like an adult, despite being the same age as Tetsurou.

“I can’t go back to the meeting like this.” Wakatoshi said sourly.

“Definitely not.” He snorted, his face aching from the wide grin on his face. He pretended not to see the other boy’s dark glare. “Come on, where’s your room?”

“Why do you need to know where’s my room?” Wakatoshi asked defensively.

“To get yourself out of these wet clothes, obviously.” He said sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He rolled his eyes anyway. “You might be the all-powerful Ushijima heir, but even kids like you can catch a cold.”

“I’m not a _kid_.” Wakatoshi said icily.

There was no doubt that the Ushijima clan was the strongest clan in the entire Kanto region, but they have some _serious_ issues.

“You are still a junior high student, even though you might not look like one. Which means you are a kid.” He replied, unimpressed. It already irked him to see that he was shorter than the Ushijima heir. Perhaps he’s far too used to being taller than most kids, like Kozume and Asami and his classmates.

Wakatoshi topped him by at least a head. He’d catch up one day, dammit.

“Come on, I need a change of clothes as well.” He said, glancing down at his yukata. Water had gotten on him when he pulled the other boy out of the pond. The hem of his yukata was soaked through as well. “Obaasan is going to kill me if I return looking like this.”

Wakatoshi exhaled in irritation. Without a word, he turned around abruptly. Tetsurou took it as a sign for him to follow.

The two boys managed to avoid all the guards as they entered further into the house. If there’s an onmyoji royalty, then the Ushijima clan was definitely it. When Tetsurou followed the other boy into a room, what he saw surprised him.

“I have an extra plain set of yukata.” Wakatoshi said without looking back, heading straight to his wardrobe. “Take yours off to dry.”

When no one replied, he turned around in confusion.

Tetsurou was staring at the volleyball on the bed. He ran a finger over the volleyball, feeling the smooth leather under his hand.

“What are you doing?” Wakatoshi demanded. “Don’t touch that.”

Tetsurou looked up at him with a feral grin. “You play volleyball too?”

Wakatoshi flushed red, his first instinct was to deny and lie that the volleyball belonged to his younger brothers. He had forgotten to keep aside his volleyball this morning, but he hadn’t been expecting visitors in his room either. Then he seemed to register Tetsurou’s question.

“...too?” He said uncertainly.

Who’d ever thought that volleyball would be the one common factor between two of them?

“Let’s play a match.” He demanded, picking up the volleyball and tossing it at Wakatoshi.

The other boy stared at him as if he had grown an extra head.

“We can’t.” Wakatoshi frowned. “We have to go back to the meeting. We have already been gone for too long. Mother will come and look for me...”

“Since we are already late, then we can afford to disappear for a little longer.” He said easily. He raised a brow slyly, noticing the hesitation in between the pinch of Wakatoshi’s thick brows. “Don’t tell me you’d rather sit in that stuffy room listening to a bunch of old farts read out statistic reports for another whole hour? Or do you want to play volleyball with me?” The corner of his lips quirked up, the action sharp and challenging. “Or are you that scared of losing against me?”

“Who are you to claim that sort of baseless allegation?” Wakatoshi scowled. His nails dug into the volleyball in irritation.

_Bingo._

“Let’s go to the backyard.” Wakatoshi said in determination. “It’s big enough.”

Tetsurou cackled softly as he followed the other boy out of the room, both forgetting about their change of clothes.

* * *

Wakatoshi’s mother and Tetsurou’s grandmother came searching for them twenty minutes later. By then, Tetsurou had hitched up his yukata and tied the hem around his thighs; Wakatoshi didn’t even bother because he’s apparently a volleyball monster, and they were both tied to a draw before both women forcefully put the game to a stop.

Shimeyo had twisted his ear as she dragged him off, screaming obscenities at him, while Wakatoshi’s mother had settled for a menacing glare of disapproval.

Asami had been annoyed that she wasn’t invited, and the day ended with both boys exchanging contacts before Tetsurou headed back home to Kanagawa.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Asami frowned. “It’s creepy.”

“Your face is creepy.” He shot back.

He forced his smile down, although inside he was giddy with pleasure. It wasn’t quite like the familiar song of a battle, but the rush of adrenaline pumping through his blood like the call of lightning was similar. Both boys had dialled back down their strength so they could play fairly against each other, but their respective talent alone had pushed Tetsurou to the limits of his child body.

He knew that volleyball was fun.

Not only had he managed to convince Kozume to play, now he found another kid that enjoyed volleyball as much as he does. If the other kid is the Ushijima heir, well, he thinks he’s doing quite a service to that family by encouraging Wakatoshi to have some fun.

Perhaps his future wouldn’t be so dull after all.


	5. Chapter 5

The sky was already dark when he got off the train. He bit back a curse as someone slammed into his shoulder and nearly knocked him to the ground. He quickly regained his equilibrium back and hurriedly rushed out of the station, eager to escape the crowd. It’s the time where everyone had just got off work, so it’s no surprise to see all the men and women in their well-pressed suits rushing to get home.  

He doesn’t understand why his junior high school had to be so far. Just one more year, he thought in disdain. Shimeyo had shoved a bunch of leaflets at him a week ago; the open houses for Tokyo’s high schools would be starting next week. 

Well, it’s not like he cared where Shimeyo enrolled him, as long as it’s near their house and has a volleyball club.

He already has a school in mind. Sorta. Nekoma was barely three stations away, and it has a pretty good volleyball club.

He just needed to get Kozume to agree to his choice. While the bakeneko has another year to go, Tetsurou could not see his high school years passing without his best friend by his side.

He was jerked out of his reverie by a vibration in his pocket. He dug his phone out, wincing as the bright light nearly blinded him in the darkness.

A message from his grandmother.

Before he could send back a reply, he froze in surprise. _Darkness?_

How long has he been walking, absorbed in his thoughts, unaware of his surroundings? How careless was he to miss that lingering presence? That _bloodthirst_?

He spun around abruptly, dropping his bag as something huge and black whipped towards him. It coiled around his body, and his bones creaked in protest. He tried to move, but his arms were pinned to the sides. He has never been this aware of his body; of each brittle bone under his skin, the rush of his heartbeats beating frantically in his chest. He struggled to hold onto his phone, even as his vision faded around the edges.

 _“He—Heed my call!”_ He gasped _._ The screen of his phone lit up once more. Words in ancient script appeared across the screen rapidly. _"O holy one, I invoke your name for your blessing and your protection. Come, Myobu!”_

There was a rush of power pouring through his body, a snarl that echoed in his ears. The uwabami released its crippling hold around him with a startled hiss.

He collapsed to the ground, holding a hand to his throat. He felt the air rushed back down to his lungs as he coughed and hacked violently. Barely three feet from his side, the sound of two animals fought loudly.

“Alright, enough!” He shouted to get their attention.

There was a crack across his phone screen, and the power seemed to have gone out. Well, he supposed the technique needed more tweaking. He knew it was an awesome idea combining traditional summoning with 21st century technology. It’s not like he could carry summoning talismans everywhere he goes.

His phone might be unusable now, but at least it had worked. Now he could shove his success in that old hag’s face once he gets home. She hadn’t believed he could do it.

Myobu shook her head sharply, the long, serpentine body trapped in her jaws. With a displeased growl, she flung the uwabami away. It crashed against the wall, the body enlarging and filling out, limbs appearing from where they did not exist before.

“Stay still, dammit!” The _boy_ snarled, crouched down in an aggressive stance.

Tetsurou resisted the urge to rub his temple. What’s with kids trying to kill him all the time?

Myobu purred against his side as he struggled to his feet. With a confident smirk, he looked down at the other boy.

“Do you think you can eat me that easily?” He snorted, infusing as much condescension as he could in the curl of his lips. It’s not that difficult; he has lots of practice.

“Shut up, _onmyoji_.” The uwabami hissed.

Ah. Hatred of the onmyoji. Now that’s understandable.

“Ha, are you trying to pick a fight, you stupid snake?” He mocked, rolling up his sleeves. “You’re a thousand years too early!”

Myobu sighed in exasperation and sat down on her rump. She has been a favoured summon of Tetsurou for the last few years and has came to understand her master well.

“If you want to eat me, you have to try harder!” Tetsurou taunted, lunging forward at the surprised boy.

* * *

His jaw was throbbing like fire as he lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and he could taste blood in his mouth. His whole body was going to bruise tomorrow, if his grandmother doesn’t _murder_ him for getting into a fight in the middle of the week.

“You—You crazy onmyoji,” the other boy panted, staring up at the starless sky. “What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

“Language, asshole.” He barked.

Myobu gave him a judgemental stare. She could have dismissed herself a long time ago, but she was a loyal summon. Besides, she has always enjoyed the feel of her summoner’s spiritual power fuelling her existence on the physical plane.

“Fuck off!” The uwabami snarled, attempting to sit up. He yowled as pain radiated up his hip. _Shit, the insane fucker had broken a bone._ He threw the onmyoji a malicious glare, his tongue flicking out dangerously. He doesn’t dare to approach any closer; the other boy might be his age, but he hit _hard_ for a human.

“What?” Tetsurou cackled, shoving himself up on his elbows. “You wanna go again, idiot?” His lips stretched into an unholy grin. “I’ll teach you to go around trying to eat innocent kids!”

“Who the fuck here is _innocent_?” The snake yokai spat. “I’ll rip the skin off your bones and feed them to the dogs!”

 _“Boys.”_ Myobu coughed loudly.

He sighed in disappointment, wrestling against the dull pain throbbing throughout his entire body. With slight difficulty, he pushed himself up. He had gone too far, it seemed like. He was going to regret this tomorrow.

Playtime’s over.

“I heard of a serial killer terrorizing this area recently.” He said, suddenly serious. The abrupt switch of demeanour clearly startled the snake yokai, as slitted eyes glowed with unease. “I’m not going to accuse you of being the culprit. You’re dumb enough to try to eat a human out in broad daylight," It’s nearing 8pm, and they were pretty isolated from the streets, but _details._  "But you don’t look like a killer to me.”

“You’re behaving rather conceited for a kid, aren’t you?” The other boy had quickly regained back his composure, a derisive sneer twisting his expression. “What if I _am_ that serial killer?”

Gods, Tetsurou yearned to claw that hideous sneer off that ignorant face.

The snake yokai didn’t even realize he was on his back until Myobu was in his face. The shikigami’s eyes were glowing an incandescent red, a paw large enough to dwarf his head pressed against his chest. The claws were still sheathed, but one wrong move and Myobu could easily sliced straight through soft skin.

“Tokyo is _mine_ , little snake.” Tetsurou smiled down at him. “Don’t ever forget that.”

He reached down to rip the name tag off the yokai’s blouse. What an utter idiot; what sort of decent yokai goes hunting in his school uniform?

Myobu sent the snake yokai one last warning glare before she trotted after her summoner. They heard the scream of frustration behind them but did not turned around.

“The brats these days are getting wilder.” Myobu sighed. “What are their parents teaching them exactly?”

Tetsurou studied the name tag in his hand, a thoughtful frown on his lips.

“Tetsu-sama?” Myobu questioned.

“You heard of the Daishou clan, didn’t you?” He asked.

It was difficult to discern emotions on a fox’s face, but Myobu’s eyes were expressive enough to see the empathy in them.

The Daishou clan had once been one of the major yokai clans in Tokyo decades ago, until a former clan head had gone rogue and strayed from the Pact. He rampaged across the country, killing indiscriminately. Yokai, human, it doesn’t matter what they are; the Daishou clan destroyed everyone in their way. The onmyoji caught up eventually, executing the clan head, along with hundreds of his brethren—even those not involved in the bloody campaign.

That event nearly wiped out the entire Daishou clan. For years after, the clan has been looked at with fear and distrust, even by the other yokai clans.

This Daishou Suguru might be an utter idiot for attacking him, and possibly trying to go through with his witless plan of consuming a human. If the snake brat had actually eaten a human before, Tetsurou would have cut him down without remorse already.

The yokai clans have a Pact to uphold. They were not just lawless demons free to run rampant in the city.

“You’re right, Myobu.” He said wryly. “The brats these days are getting more and more troublesome.”


End file.
